


All the Time in the World

by zanattack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanattack/pseuds/zanattack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Final Battle, Ginny goes in search of Harry to have a much-needed discussion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Time in the World

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this almost directly after the 7th book came out. I was kinda pissed that JK didn't give us a final Harry/Ginny scene, because I felt like Harry had things he had to answer for. It's mostly just a short lovey-dovey fluff, though. :3

"Password?"

 

Ginny stared up at the portrait of the Fat Lady. The large woman's cheeks were flushed and her voice was slightly slurred from the celebration. Voices rang out throughout Hogwarts, some were cheers of victory and others sobs mourning for loved ones. Ginny's own eyes were red and puffy from crying, and she felt more sadness for the lost of her brother than she did euphoria for the defeated Dark Lord. She had spent the last few hours on her mother's shoulder, the conversations around her blending into one deafening noise.

 

" _You-Know-Who's gone!_ "

" _. . . died so young. Such a tragedy._ "

" _What will happen to the remaining Death Eaters?_ "

" _Never honestly thought that Potter lad had it in him. . . ._ "

 

At the mention of Harry, Ginny stole herself away from the crowd and crept upstairs. There was only one person she wanted to talk to, and he was up in the Gryffindor common room, getting some well-deserved rest. Ginny was worn out, too, but not so much from the fighting as it was the emotional strain. So many feelings whirled inside her she didn't know how she could cope. And Fred . . .

 

Her twin brothers had taught her more than anyone ever had. True, most of it resulted in landing herself in more trouble, but there were threads of golden wisdom in their advise. Unsurprisingly, George handled the lose of Fred the worst, and as far as Ginny knew he was still in the Great Hall clinging to the body.

"I don't know the password," Ginny admitted to the Fat Lady, pushing all thoughts out of her brain and focusing on the task at hand.

 

The portrait merely shrugged. "I won't tell if you won't." She winked and flung herself open, granting Ginny entrance into the room behind her. It was as warm as ever, with its red furniture and cackling fire. If she didn't know better, Ginny would think that everything in the world was right, and Fred, Remus, and Tonks would walk through the portrait hole anytime.

 

She crept up the stairwell to the boys' dormitories silently, smoothing her hand over the rail and marveling at the familiar feeling of the cool wood beneath her palm. She listened carefully, keeping her ears open for any sign Harry was in one of the rooms.

 

And it finally came to her when she reached the sixth year rooms. It was just a small sniffle, choked and full of emotion, but it was all she needed. Pushing the door open, she saw him on a bed, his head resting on a pillow and his face red and blotchy.

 

Ginny felt she really shouldn't have been so surprised to see him in such a state. He had just endured the trial of a lifetime, something most people only dreamed about in nightmares. She had never seen Harry cry before, though, and was shocked to see it all the same.

 

He only opened his eyes and noticed her there after she had tiptoed across the room and when he felt someone's hand caressing his cheek. "Ginny," he whispered throatily. He moved aside to make room for her, and she sat down next to him, resting her head on his chest. Tears still ran down her face, and he smoothed her hair and sat with her, holding her and never wanting to let go again.

 

There was something much more intimate about crying with someone, Ginny thought, than kissing. She had never felt so close to Harry before, even with the secluded hours they spent alone together last year. She let this continue for a few minutes, not wanting to break the silence, before she lifted her head.

 

"I thought you were dead," she accused silently, and Harry, not expecting this, grimaced.

 

"I know," he replied. "So did I, actually."

 

"It was the worst thing that had ever happened to me," she mumbled. "And when I saw you . . . dead and in Hagrid's arms, it felt as if time had stopped. My heart broke into so many pieces and I couldn't breathe. I don't know how I could've handled losing you and Fred at the same time."

 

Harry had resumed stroking her hair. "I'm sorry." He pressed his lips to her forehead, and for a brief second Ginny's heart raced. "For everything."

 

"Why are you sorry?" she demanded. "It wasn't your fault, Harry. None of it was. You did what you had to do."

 

He laughed without humor. "How could it not have been my fault, Ginny? They all died for me, and if I could've have stopped Voldemort sooner all those people wouldn't be dead." He shook his head sadly, and Ginny saw more angry tears well in the corners of his eyes.

 

Ginny brushed his hair aside and rubbed his scar with her thumb. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, relaxing into her touch. "People would have died whether you were the Chosen One or not. Voldemort's a killer, and I honestly don't think anyone but yourself blames you for what happened tonight." She kissed the scar. "You have survivor's guilt, is all." She resumed petting the lightning bolt on his forehead, and it was with extreme difficulty Harry resisted kissing her wrist.

 

There was silence again, and this time Harry let Ginny comfort him. "Harry . . ." Ginny said slowly, cautiously. She was unsure of how to ask him this – was worried the topic was too sensitive. "What happened tonight?"

 

Harry remained still for a minute before sighing. "Ginny, would you understand if I didn't want to talk about it right now?" His eyes blazed, begging her to understand. "I will at sometime, but not now. It's all . . . too soon." Ginny nodded, and Harry smiled, truly smiled, for the first time in what felt like days. "I'd never admit this to anyone, Ginny, but you want to know a secret?"

 

Ginny returned his smile. "Of course."

 

He leaned forward so his mouth was by her ear. "I was terrified." He sighed, his grin gone. Ginny felt goose pimples erupt on her skin from the feel of his breath on her neck. "I was bloody terrified. I went to meet Voldemort with the intention of dying, but it didn't quite work out that way, did it?"

 

Surprised, Ginny sat up abruptly, pushing away from Harry with her arms. "What do you mean, you intended to die?" she asked, her voice rising.

 

"Calm down, Ginny. You're hysterical."

 

"I don't bloody want to calm down!" She scowled at him. "You'd do that to me? Willingly die and make me miserable for the rest of my life?"

 

"I'd do anything so you could have a future, Ginny. No one else could've beaten Tom; it had to be me." He pulled her closer to him, tucking her head under his chin and inhaling deeply, taking in the scent of her hair. "You would've been able to move on eventually."

 

"You underestimate how much I love you."

 

"You love me?" he asked wonderingly, grinning crookedly.

 

"Of course," Ginny scoffed. "Did you honestly think I didn't?"

 

"Well, you never told me that before."

 

Ginny's reply was cut off when Harry pressed his lips to hers, and soon she forgot what she was even going to say. It felt like the kiss they had shared on his birthday – the only wonderful thing that had happened to her those few torturous months. She clung to him desperately, deepening the kiss. Her hands had manifested themselves in his hair, and his own were rubbing slow circles on the small of her back.

 

It felt like hours before they broke apart, gasping for air. They were still holding each other, and Harry had once again buried his face in her mane of red hair.

 

Still breathing heavily, Ginny managed to say, "Do you love me, Harry?"

 

"Yeah," he answered, kissing the top of her head. "I reckon I do love you."

 

For once in her life, Ginny felt whole – complete. The bandages that had been holding her heart together for nearly a year vanished, and she felt it repair itself almost magically.

 

"This doesn't make up for the fact you nearly killed yourself. Have you always been so suicidal?"

 

"I told you! I did that for you. I wanted you to have a happy, Voldemort-free world to live in. So the whole Wizarding world could live without fear. Right before Voldemort killed me, all I was thinking about was you." He used his finger to push up her chin so she was looking at him. "It doesn't really matter, does it? I'm here now, whole and safe."

 

"You're right," she agreed grudgingly. "We'll talk about it later." Harry snorted, obviously displeased, but not wanting to argue.

 

"So," Ginny murmured, "does this mean we're back together? For real this time?"

 

"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "We have all the time in the world now to be together, don't we?"

 

Ginny liked how that sounded, and suddenly found herself hoping. Yes, many were dead. And, yes, she had no idea how to live without her brother, but she had Harry to go through it with her. He was officially hers now, and now the world didn't seem so dark. The Wizarding world would eventually be repaired, with Harry there to share it with her.

 

After all, they now had all the time in the world to be together.


End file.
